


Phylactery

by parshaara



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Recovering Templar Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 19:58:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parshaara/pseuds/parshaara
Summary: The struggle of loving a mage while being a recovering templar.





	Phylactery

\- “I want you to have this,” she’d said when they’d first arrived, leaving the small hourglass-shaped bottle on his makeshift desk in the courtyard. At the time he’d simply nodded and scooped it up in the armload of things he was taking to his new chambers. 

\- He thought about the way the freckles that peppered her cheeks spread down her neck, no doubt in his mind that her body was also a star map in its own right. The small bottle glowed, its own little sun among his belongings. 

\- The red glow felt harsh against his bloodshot eyes. The nightmares hardly stopped now, and he felt his sanity stripping away. The glow of the bottle waxed and waned as Maryn came and went from Skyhold. His desk remained littered with uneaten meals and parchments covered in shaky handwriting. He couldn’t let go now. 

\- The bottle dangled from a shelf, held in place by pure luck and a knot in the wood which caught the chain. The glow had softened slightly, illuminating the remaining shards of his shattered philter kit. Cullen growled and slammed his fists on the desk. 

\- A warm glow settled against the soft brush of hair on his chest. He was suddenly glad for the layers that hid the light. It was his own private star, a small piece of the night sky that was Maryn. The token he gave her was nowhere near as personal, but it had the same sentiment behind it. 

\- He turned the weakly glowing bottle over in his hands. His body was nearly vibrating with the leftover adrenaline of their dance at Halamshiral. The evening went well, even by his standards. The glow sharpened to nearly blinding as Maryn roamed the battlements, likely awake for the same reasons. He kissed the strangely warm hourglass and hung it from a notch on his headboard. 

\- “I love you,” he repeated softly as he pressed his lips to the nearly extinguished bottle. She was far from him, nearly untouched even by the enchantment of the phylactery. Images of her freckled, lanky body danced before him every time he closed his eyes. As he dressed, he tucked the hourglass into his shirts, once again holding it close to his heart. 

\- The bottle shone brightly under the mound of discarded plate and leathers. He’d quickly hidden it as he removed his clothing, hoping no one caught sight of the soft red glow. The last thing he needed was to be suspected of having red lyrium. As he dashed away following his loss at Wicked Grace, he prayed no one, especially Maryn, would take it upon themselves to return his belongings. 

\- He gripped the phylactery tightly as he repeated his prayers. The thought amused him, holding a manifestation of blood magic before the image of Andraste. The glow brightened as she grew closer. As her footsteps sounded behind him he stuffed the bottle into his sleeve. 

\- The glow had all but completely faded as the battle raged on. Several times he thought she would be gone for good, turning the hourglass mindlessly in his hands. If anyone noticed, they were polite enough to ignore it. Slowly the glow returned, his private star illuminating his hands like the anchor shone in hers. She’s returned.  
-  
-  
-

“I don’t know what happens after this,” he whispered following her to the balcony and wrapping his arms around her. 

“Neither do I,” she replied, settling against him. 

“With the chance that circles might disband, how do you want to handle this?” he asked producing her phylactery from within his shirts. She quickly pulled away from him, a shocked look breaking across her tired face. 

“You’ve kept that this whole time?!” Maryn gasped. 

Cullen shied back, startled by her outburst. “It brought me peace,” he said solemnly, fiddling with the bottle; “It calmed my heart to see it glow every time you returned to me”. 

Her expression softened and she pulled him close. “I believe you,” Maryn brought her lips to his. She pushed him towards her bed, not breaking the kiss.   
-  
-  
-  
-  
\- His personal sun glowed nearly white-hot, illuminating the galaxy of freckles trailing down Maryn’s neck and dotting the soft roundness of her backside. He turned it over in his hands one more time before padding across the room to the balcony. “I love you,” he whispered, smashing the bottle against the moondrenched stones. The glow immediately ceased as the thick, dark blood and glass dispersed. A sense of relief swept over both of them as the shattering sound faded. Freedom. Her life was now held by no one but her. As he bent to sweep the glass bits off the terrace Maryn sprawled out among the pillows and coverlets on her bed. She made no effort to cover herself when he turned back to her. “Maker, how did I get so lucky?” he purred as he caught sight of her.

“I’m the lucky one,” she whispered as she leaned down to kiss him.


End file.
